


25 PG-13 Pilots Short Fics

by callmeonetrack



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9376820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeonetrack/pseuds/callmeonetrack
Summary: 25 short fics (500-1000 words) of pilots, G or PG-13.





	

**How Lee Came to Love Pie Instead of Cake**

Kara didn't like cake. 

Prior to this revelation, Lee had thought she was perfect. Utterly and completely perfect. And really, who didn't like cake? He chalked it up to an impaired palate when she insisted that instead of a cake she wanted pie at their wedding. Her favorite, she emphasized, was coconut cream. 

It was a tall order on such short notice. Getting Kara to actually sit down and discuss wedding details was no mean feat. Whenever Lee would pull out his Dream Wedding planner, she would roll her eyes and joke about running off and eloping. (At least he hoped she was joking...it hadn't been very pleasant for Lee the first time she'd gone and done that.) She'd refused to weigh in on the choice of music other than to say she "didn't want Gaeta wailing anything about dead girls." (Unsurprisingly, she was still a little touchy about that topic, all things considered.) The menu was free of Kara input as well, save for her suggestion that beer and ambrosia were all they needed. And when he'd asked her what color napkins would be appropriate....well, it was best not to repeat what she'd said about that one. 

Since she'd shown such little interest in the proceedings so far, when she piped up about a preference for pie, Lee knew he couldn't deny her. It took some work and some favors, but when the wedding day came around, Lee proudly presented his new bride with two fluffy, startlingly white, coconut cream pies. 

He was just picking up the knife while the band sung that silly "The groom cuts the cake..." song, when suddenly he heard a cackle and the next thing he knew, coconut cream was covering his face. Luckily his split-second reflexes had kicked in and he'd closed his eyes, but the frothy concoction had gotten everywhere else. He had whipped cream and coconut and cool custard matted in the front of his hair, sliding down his brow and nose, dripping off his chin onto his nice clean dress blues. He was furious. 

Lee wiped the dessert away from his eyes and opened them. Kara was right in front of him, laughing, her eyes sparkling, and before he could even protest, she took his face in her hands and kissed him hard. He could hear their guests stamping and applauding in the background, even heard a wolf whistle that sounded like Hot Dog, and some of Lee's anger faded away. The kiss deepened, her warm lips mashed to his slippery pastry-coated ones, her tongue twining around his own till Lee forgot all about their guests, the wedding, the pie filling sliding down the back of his collar. 

Then suddenly Kara pulled away and twisted his head slightly in her hands, her tongue swiping a long, wet stripe up the side of his cheek. She swallowed and licked her lips, winking at him, then leaned in close. 

"Told ya pie was my favorite. And I'm feeling hungry," her voice was a purr in his ear. "What do you say we skip on out of here and get you cleaned up?" 

Lee looked around the reception hall, taking in the centerpieces, the three course meals, the flowers and candles. All those months cutting out pictures from the bridal magazines, keeping detailed to-do lists, agonizing over every choice... and she wanted him to just walk away, while the night was still young, as if none of his hard work mattered at all. 

Well. There was only one thing to do. 

As he took her hand and practically dragged her off the dance floor and towards the elevator to the bridal suite, Lee thought maybe Kara's palate was just fine after all. He'd have to thoroughly inspect it, of course--just to be sure--but as it turned out, later that night, after much thorough inspection of many things, Lee decided that on this one issue Kara was indeed right. 

Pie was definitely better than cake.

 

**Lucky**

It's just her luck that the front door slams not five minutes after Kara gets Jacob to settle. Of course, her month-old son awakens with an ear-splitting cry. Kara pivots from where she was sneaking out the door, scoops him up, and curses her husband (silently) for the entire thirty seconds it takes him to come upstairs. 

"Is he still awake?" Lee asks breathlessly, and her anger abates a little because she knows the prepwork for the Peterson trial has sent him home long past their son's bedtime for the past three nights. Still, she's not letting him off the hook that easily. 

"Well, he wasn't, but he is now," she says a bit archly, as Lee presses a kiss to the side of her mouth and then ducks to place one on the baby's head. "I'll have you know it took me two hours of stories and lullabies and bouncing before he'd settle."

"Sorry, babe," Lee says sheepishly, squeezing an arm around her and pressing another kiss to her temple. 

"Yeah, well you're just lucky I don't carry a gun anymore, Adama," she mutters, the sting taken out of her barb by the enormous yawn that interrupts it. It's been a hard week for her too. She's on her third week of maternity leave from the force and Kara misses when her days were full of easy stuff, like taking down perps and interrogating witnesses. Now, she's changing diapers and doing feedings and cajoling Jacob to please, please, please settle down for a nap. She loves her son like nobody's business, but she's still not sure she's cut out for this motherhood crap. 

Lee lifts the baby out of her arms, and says, "Let me take him for a while, okay? You look beat. I think you need a nap more than he does." He bounces Jake, one hand rubbing circles on the baby's back and of course the kid shuts up immediately for Daddy. Kara frowns as Lee coos to their son, "You think Mommy needs a nap, Jake? Daddy does. She's wearing her scary face again." 

Kara kicks his shin lightly as she pads by him and heads for the bedroom. She flops onto the bed, barely enough energy left to drag the comforter over her and tells herself she'll only nap for twenty minutes.

Two hours later, she wakes, blinking sleep away as her eyes fix on the red digits of the alarm clock on the nightstand. She's alone and Kara wonders if Lee could possibly still be in the nursery. With a tiny strum of satisfaction, she thinks, let's see how he likes having to do the whole bedtime tap dance routine. 

She gets up and pads down the hall, slipping quietly into the nursery. Jake's asleep alright, but so is Lee. He's sitting in the overstuffed armchair in the corner, head tossed back, mouth open, snoring lightly. Their son is curled on his chest, his face slack, drool trickling out of his open mouth. With their matching dark caps of hair, Jacob is the miniature mirror image of his father.

Kara watches them, frustrations of the day swept away by a tidal wave of love for her boys, and wonders how she ever got this lucky.

 

**The Truth of the Matter**

Lee woke up the morning after the tylium mission to the unmistakable cackling of one Kara Thrace. He groaned, hangover making his temples throb, and pulled back the curtain. 

“What’s so funny?” 

She looked up from the copy of the Daily Fleet broadsheet in her hands. “They wrote a piece on the mission last night. Someone’s got quite a fan, Captain Apollo.” Kara positively purred the nickname, smirking to beat the band right after and Lee scrubbed a hand over his face thinking it was far too early to be dealing with this. He hoisted himself up and circled the table, bending to read over her shoulder. 

“What’s it say?” 

“Ew!” Kara face twisted in disgust, and she bumped her shoulder against his. “Morning breath!” 

He raised an eyebrow and swiveled his head, then leaned closer, lips hovering an inch from hers. Close enough to blast her. Close enough to kiss her too. If he wanted to. Which he didn’t. Of course. “You have a problem with my hygiene?” 

Bright unflinching eyes held his gaze for a few charged seconds then Kara shrugged and turned back to the paper. Lee smiled and mentally scored himself a point. 

Kara read aloud, “ ‘The dashing and ruggedly handsome Captain Apollo remained remarkably cool under pressure, saving the day thanks to an ingenious split-second decision.' ” 

“And what’s wrong with that?” he asked, pleased by the description and vaguely offended by Kara’s mockery. 

“They need better sources,” she shoved the paper aside, grinning. “Clearly, they didn’t hear about how our ‘dashing’ CAG was so jittery on his joystick he scorched a streak a mile wide in the deck when he brought his bird in.” 

That was true. The nerves hadn’t really blown off until he’d gotten the canopy open and could jolt down the ladder onto solid ground again. He picked up the paper and skimmed the article. “Well I bet you had no problem with this part: 'Commander Adama also credited the mission’s success to the Fleet’s flight instructor and top gun, Lieutenant Kara “Starbuck” Thrace, whose out-of-the-box strategizing designed the risky plan of attack. The dynamic officer wisely opted out of flying the mission due to a previous injury and calmly stood sentry in the Galactica command center.' ” 

She preened a little. “Yeah, that bit was okay.” 

“Wisely opted out? Like you actually had a choice in the matter.” He snorted and leveled a gaze at her. “And calm? I heard they’re still scrubbing your sweaty handprints off the plotting board.” 

She frowned and stuck out her tongue, but Lee just grinned. 

“Anyway, so what? So the civilians need their big damn heroes to believe in. We know the truth.” 

“The truth?’ Kara narrowed her eyes skeptically. 

“The truth of the matter is,” he slung an arm around her shoulders, “that underneath our boldly confident facades, we’re just a pair of emotional frakwits.” He nodded solemnly at her and was rewarded by a huff of laughter. Lee smiled. “I did like that dashing and ruggedly handsome part though.” 

Kara just rolled her eyes and shook her head, reaching over to tap his chest. “Go brush your teeth, Captain Apollo.”

 

 **15 Things They Never Do**  
1.     Lee and Kara never use cutesy nicknames or even such standard couple-y forms of address like "babe" or "honey" or "sweetie." Their favorite terms of endearment for each other remain, as they have since the first night they met, "Lee Adama" and "Kara Thrace."   
2.     They never let Uncle Saul and Aunt Ellen babysit.  
3.     Even after they've been together longer than they've been apart, Lee never gets used to the tattoo on Kara's left arm.  
4.     Kara never stops praying to the Gods-- for friends and family, safety and peace, courage and conviction. But the thing she prays for most is that Lee never changes his mind about her being worth it.  
5.     When they find out the baby is a boy, Zak is the first name they both think of. For reasons both shared and individual, neither one ever suggests it.  
6.     They go to Sunday dinner at Bill and Laura's insistence every week. Neither one of them ever tell Laura how terrible her cooking is.  
7.     Lee never gets tired of hearing Kara laugh.  
8.     Kara never gets tired of seeing Lee smile.  
9.     When their kids are teenagers, they learn to never invite friends over without calling home first. (They've caught mom and dad in rather compromising situations more than once.)  
10. Deep down, neither of them ever stop thinking the cylons might come back some day. They keep up-to-date on weapons training.  
11. Lee thinks he's never seen anything more beautiful than Kara wearing his sweats and bitching about her swollen ankles and bloated body at 8 months pregnant. He never tells her though, because for a pregnant lady, he'd bet she still has a mean right hook.  
12. They fight loudly and often. Kara runs sometimes, but not very far. Lee does a cold shoulder better than the Yeti. But they never let it last too long without a rousing bout of makeup sex.  
13. They get married, eventually, but they never have a discussion about whether or not Kara will change her last name. It's an antiquated tradition and she didn't the first time she got married (a sore subject), plus there's the Zak baggage (an even sorer subject). Still, when, a few days after they get back from their honeymoon, his wife corrects someone who calls her by her full name to say she's "Kara Thrace Adama, now", Lee grins from ear-to-ear and doesn't stop until Kara suggests a better use for those lips.  
14. Kara never misses flying. It surprises her sometimes, when she thinks about it, but that's not very often. She's grounded in more ways than one now, but she's still got her wingman on her six and there's nowhere she'd rather be.  
15. The sex, once they get over the novelty of just having it with each other whenever and wherever and as often as they want, is adventurous and mind-blowing with a frequency that's probably higher than normal (all those years of repression equaling foreplay), but, predictably, Lee's favorite thing about sleeping with Kara is just that: sleeping with her. The way she turns into him after, sweaty and sated and smiling, and he wraps his arms around her to pull her closer, her lips brushing his collarbone, head pillowed on his shoulder, her arms slipping around his waist as their breathing falls into a rhythm. She never tells him that it's her favorite part too.

**Playing Dirty**

Kara's attention is divided, her mind half on her cards, and half on Lee. That's nothing new. What is new is the way he's been half-assedly flirting with Anastasia Dualla all night. 

The teenager (at 19, she's the youngest officer on the ship and almost a decade younger than Lee) looks thrilled at the attention, and Kara wonders what happened to that lanky boyfriend of hers that's always tagging after the president. She never would have taken Lee for a cradle robber, but she guesses she doesn't have much room to talk there. It's not like she ever minded the hero worship in Zak's eyes. 

Or Sam's.

Kara frowned and went back to her cards, annoyed at herself for even bothering to note his trivial pursuit of the petty officer. At least he wasn't seeing that prostitute on the Prometheus anymore. So if he wants to make moony eyes at Dee -- the same ones he used to aim at you, an insidious voice whispers in her head -- then he should. It's none of her frakking business.

It isn't.

It's not.

Until it is. Only because they're being so obvious about it. Maybe she should tell them to get a rack.

She's not going to tell them to get a rack. 

What she is going to do is toss her cards down on the table and grin. "Boys and girls, I think it's time we raise the stakes of this here game."

That gets some raised brows. "What'd you have in mind, Starbuck?" Helo asks, chuckling already.

She grins around the table, drops a hand to the zipper of her sweatshirt, tugging it down a bit. "Strip triad, with a kicker."

"A kicker?" That's Lee, his tone wary but interested. His eyes are off Dee, and on her, her hand, in fact. He's watching as Kara tugs the zipper back up, then down again, exposing an inch more of cleavage and pea green sports bra. 

Kara smirks and tips forward, elbows on the table, her breasts flattened, elevated slightly where they press into the edge. Her nipples harden at the contact and she wets her lips. "You win a hand with full colors, you get to dictate what the loser takes off." 

Around the table, the pilots are hooting a little at her challenge, cries of "I'm in" and "Let's do it!" ringing out. Lee's still staring, his eyes darting between her chest and her face. Next to him, Dee clears her throat, and quietly says "Think that's my cue."

Dee is Sagittaron. It's no surprise that strip triad isn't her game. 

Lee looks at her, startled, though, and gets up to follow her to the hatch. They stand by the entry, talking in low murmurs for a few minutes and Kara shifts, irritated. "Apollo, that dipstick CAG scheduled me on CAP in a few hours," she keeps her voice light, playful. "You in or out?"

He looks back, clearly torn, and Dee steps back, ducks out of the hatch. 

Kara grins, triumphant. "You ready to play with the big kids, now, Lee?"

He cocks a brow, walks back over to the table and sprawls in a chair, and tosses his money in the pot. "You better watch out Starbuck. I'm feeling lucky." He flashes her a wicked smile. "Your ass is mine tonight."

She just winks back, challenge in her eyes. "Bring it, Apollo."

An hour later, they're the only ones left playing in the empty room, as he grins and lays down full colors. She's already bare-breasted and Kara reaches for her briefs, but he shoots a hand out and grabs her wrist, coming around the table to stand in front of her. The air is thick as he steps close, and murmurs. "To the victor goes the spoils." He leans in, lips grazing her ear and says, in a voice so low it's barely audible, "Allow me."

His hand slides beneath the thin cloth, curving possessively against her ass and Kara smiles. 

He proves as good as his word.

**Another Time, Another Place**

After Lee left the brig, Starbuck settled back against the wall. She was supposedly here till they got home, but she knew the Old Man. He'd find some reason he needed her, bail her out early. Nothing to do till then but wait. Bored, her brain insisted on replaying her talk with Lee.

_“How long’s it been?”_

_“Two years.”_

That wasn’t entirely true. It may have been two years since Lee saw _her_ but Kara had seen him since. Once.

It had been about six months after Zak’s funeral. She’d been on shore leave, the first she’d taken since joining the Galactica crew. Kara hadn’t wanted to take it on Caprica—Delphi of all places—but Helo was off, and he’d cajoled her into going with him. Kara figured the weekend would just be a blur of bars and hotel rooms, nothing she couldn’t handle.

Their third night they’d ended up at a club a little closer to Fleet headquarters than she would’ve liked. But it was a swankier place than Kara would normally frequent and she figured that’d extend to any familiar faces too. The dress code was casual chic, and she put on her armor accordingly. In civvie clothes, wearing a dress for the first time in...she couldn’t remember how long, with heels and makeup, Kara could almost pretend she was someone else for the night anyway.

Two hours and more than a few stiff drinks later, in the arms of some towheaded major whose mouth was talented enough to make her forget any lingering discomfort, Kara felt relaxed, almost happy. And then she’d caught a glimpse of familiar and piercing blue eyes over the man’s shoulder and her knees had nearly buckled.

Kara and Lee hadn’t exactly parted amicably what with his rage at his father and disbelief over her new posting. Beneath it all, Kara’s guilt had pulsed like a heartbeat, every heated word they exchanged bringing her one syllable closer to spilling out her secret.

She shifted now behind the major’s muscled bulk, eyes taking him in across the room. Lee looked good, a few more lines around the eyes, the mouth a little tighter maybe, but okay. Not broken.

She kept watching, paying almost no attention to the man kissing her neck. He slid a hand down, groped her ass, and Kara scowled and reached back to push his hand back into neutral territory, but her eyes stayed focused on Lee. Then Lee shifted, and his arm slid around the woman next to him, whom Kara had completely failed to notice previously, and he smiled.

The woman was thin and blonde with delicate features. Kara thought she looked like a dancer, maybe, or a model. Definitely a civvie. Still, they looked good together.

Her eyes lingered, unable to look away until Lee turned suddenly in her direction, and Kara drew back on reflex just before his eyes would reach her.

Pulling away from the major from wherever and muttering some sort of apology, she ducked her head, shoved through the crowd, just wanting out. But she’d hit through the wrong door, ending up in the restroom instead.

There was a small couch in the room and Kara sank down on it, trying to decide what to do. She wasn’t going back out there, that was for sure. She could call a cab, even walk if she had to. She wasn’t ready to face Lee. Not today, maybe not ever.

Before she could decide on any course of action, the door creaked open and Kara lifted her head to see—of course—the delicate blonde step into the room and over to the mirrors. She rolled her eyes at the irony of it all, and watched the girl as she took out a small compact from her purse, patted the shine off her nose.

Her curiosity piqued, Kara stood up and walked over to the sink next to her. A polite but warm smile flashed from the woman’s reflection and Kara stood for a moment, motionless, just staring at the woman’s reflection as a hundred questions sprung up and died on her tongue: _How do you know Lee? Is he still as stubborn as ever? Has he forgiven his father? Does he miss Zak as much as I do? Does he miss—_

She dropped her head when she realized the girl was staring back at her, a questioning look on her face, and fumbled inside her small clutch. She pulled out a tube of lipstick and slicked some on hastily.

“That’s a great color.”

She looked over at the woman, whose voice was deeper, richer than she’d expected. _Maybe she was a singer_ , Kara thought. Maybe she was a singer or a dancer or a model. Maybe Lee would marry her and they’d have a little pack of rugrats with blue eyes and gold ringlets who the Commander could spoil and maybe it would make things right again in a way Kara never, ever could.

“Here.” She held the tube out. “Try it on if you like.”

The girl hesitated then took it shyly, thanking her, and applied some to her small, perfect cupid’s bow mouth. Then she smiled at her reflection, easily and quickly, and Kara had no doubt that this woman had always been pleased at what— _at who_ —she saw in the mirror. Turning away, Kara strode to the door.

“Wait! You forgot your—” The girl called, holding the lipstick out, but Kara just waved her off.

“Keep it,” she said over her shoulder, one foot already out the door. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

Shifting now on her hard cot in the cell, Kara wondered what happened to the girl. Were they still together? She’d probably never know. By the time she got out of the brig, Lee would be halfway back to Caprica.

Still unbroken though.

Starbuck settled back against the wall to wait. She had all the time in the worlds.

 

**Two of a Kind**

Lee watched Kara grip the hair of the cylon model and yank its head off the table from behind the heavy glass of the observation window. The man was sweating, the virus clearly taking its toll, and yet he was grinning beatifically as she bent his head back.

Lee was not grinning.

He wasn’t sure why he’d come down here. His father hadn’t thought it necessary to have anyone observe Starbuck's interrogation of the prisoner, and Lee still could barely look at her without feeling the rage and frustration boil up. Other things too, but he focused on those.

Right now he was looking though. Kara’s nostrils were flared, her lips compressed in a thin line, and even from this distance he could see the tension in her form. She whispered grim, biting words meant to wound, but she didn’t bash the cylon’s face against the wood like he expected. Kara just let go, shoving his head forward. Through it all, the toaster just smiled and laughed. Lee knew somehow that this was the one that had held her prisoner on that frakking mudball planet.

And then suddenly it was over. Kara turned towards another of the models, the one she’d told them she’d seen before, as a doctor in one of those farms on Caprica. For a second, Lee had a vain, childish wish that they’d never set foot on solid ground again. Not even Earth.

Then Kara was leaving, the marines hauling the tall dark skinjob after her. His eyes tracked the motion and he started to turn to go too, when the other cylon, the first one, lifted his head. He seemed to smile directly at Lee through the glass.

Suddenly his temper flared higher, uncontrolled, like someone had touched a match to it, and the next thing he knew, Lee was storming through the door into the brig and grabbing the cylon, almost dragging him over the table by his shirt. “Do you think this is a frakking game?” He roared, furious.

“You’re...Apollo,” the cylon smiled, maddeningly, despite his laboured breathing. “Major...Lee Adama.”

He nodded shortly, caught off-guard by the benign response, then cursed. “You will tell us what we want to know.” His fingers curled harder in the cylon’s shirt.

“We have...a lot...in common.”

“What?!” Lee asked, startled enough to loosen his grip. But the toaster didn’t even bother to try to break free. “We have absolutely nothing in common. You’re a frakking machine.”

“She calls me Lee….oben.” The cylon drew out the word, and Lee swallowed hard, knowing instinctively who the _she_ was. He remembered the name now too from the post-New Caprica briefing. He glared at the cylon. Was this a trick? Another of their mind games? The toaster just smiled blithe and inscrutable. “What do you...want to...know?”

Lee blew a breath out. “The virus. How did you get infected with the virus?”

Leoben’s mouth creased in that same rictus of a grin. “That’s not... what you want...to know."

Bright, hot anger flared again and this time he used both hands, dragging the cylon up onto his feet. “What the frak are you playing at?”

Blue eyes gleamed at him, maniacally, and Lee wondered if it was the fever or if this model was always like this. He wondered how Kara had managed to—but he shut that thought down. Kara always managed to take care of herself, he reminded himself bitterly. This wasn’t about her. Not everything in his godsdamned life had to be about her.

The cylon was still wearing that creepy grin, eyes scrutinizing like he could read Lee’s thoughts. “You..want to know...what it...feels like.”

Lee’s jaw clenched. “I’m positive it feels like hell. The virus is—”

The toaster laughed then, a terrible, gasping croak. “Not…the…virus.” He spit out the words between heavy breaths. “You…want to know…what it…feels like…to…have her. To take…her hand. To lie down with her…every…night. To hear her...cry out…our name.”

Rage surged up and Lee crashed the toaster’s head into the table and holding it there while he howled in pain. He squatted, bringing his lips to the man’s ear. “You’re a frakking liar. I’ve seen the reports. You didn’t touch her. She would never let you touch her. Kara killed you every time you tried.”

Adrenaline was pumping through him, his heart racing, head pounding now. Lee almost missed the cylon’s hoarsely whispered reply. “Not… every… time.”

Almost on autopilot, his free hand flew to his sidearm, pulling the gun, cocking the trigger, placing the barrel against the toaster’s head. Lee heard shocked gasps and protests behind him. He heard it, but it all felt very far away, as the scope of his world narrowed to the prisoner under his gun. The cylon’s smile finally disappeared and the room got very quiet. He couldn’t hear anything but his heart thumping like a metronome and behind him the faint sound of crying. His finger twitched, and the only thing that stopped Lee from firing was the idea that suddenly occurred to him.

Maybe the frakking skinjob wanted this. He’d heard Kara tell him there was no resurrection hub. Maybe this was his plan. Maybe he just wanted it all to be over.

Lee knew that feeling. But he soldiered on because what else could he frakking do. And he’d be damned if this cylon bastard got to take the easy way out.

He pulled the gun back, shoved it in his holster, sparing a final disgusted glance for the toaster. “You sick frakker,” Lee spit the words at him, gave him a final hard shove before he lifted his hand off its back. “You’re obsessed with her. And you’ll never get to have her except in your twisted, frakking fantasy world.”

He pivoted sharply and headed for the door. It was only the silence of the cell that allowed the low current of words to carry to Lee's ear.

“Then… I guess we’re… not so different… after all… Major.”

 

**Double Trouble**

Lee looked from one blonde to the other, fury and betrayal enraging him. All this time, she'd lied to him.

"You're a cylon, Kara?!"

His gun swung unsteadily between them, unsure whether to focus on the one in tanks and boots or the one in the blue dress that had about stopped his heart last night at the dance. Running this mission to the basestar to leave the transponder was supposed to be simple. Get in, get out. Then they walked out of the darkness.

Shock buffets him in another wave as he stares at the pale skin, the wide mouth, those sparkling eyes. He wants to believe that it's a terrible prank, some sort of trick or disguise. But they're identical down to the little beauty mark low on the right side of Kara's neck. No,  _its_  neck. It's not human.

"How could you do this?" his voice breaks. "How could you betray us?"

"It's okay, Lee. Don't freak out." That's the one in tanks. 

"This? Is a once in a lifetime opportunity?" The one in the dress smiles at him, full lips tilting with mischief the way he knows so well, the way he sees in his dreams most nights. 

They move closer, coming towards him, and Lee stumbles back. "No, no," he murmurs urgently. He doesn't want them to come any closer...because he can already feel his resolve weakening.

His back hits something warm and solid, and then there are arms wrapping around his waist and squeezing him, and lips against his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, whispering "You just don't get it, Apollo. C'mon, think it through. That's what you do best, right?" He twists belatedly in her embrace. This Kara wears that aqua t-shirt with the plunging neckline he couldn't stop staring down that first night he met her. Lee just stares and stares, overwhelmed, confused. 

She smiles at him, reaches up and cups his face in her hands and kisses him. Her mouth is demanding, hungry, and helplessly, his lips part under hers. Years of longing and wanting and pent-up desire rush out on mingled breaths and swallowed gasps as they press desperately together again and again. She claims Lee's surrender with the sinuous twist of her tongue twining with his.

His gun falls to the basestar floor with a dull thud.

"We love you, Lee," her voice echoes in his ears. "We were made for you. Stay with us."

Then hands are on his waist, slipping inside his flight suit, running through his hair. Lips are on his throat and the nape of his neck. He twists away from Kara's mouth, and another presses to his, the same taste tingling on his tongue, the same familiar scent of cigars and vanilla filling his senses. Hands pull his clothes away, limbs snake over him. He's surrounded, drowning in sensation. Kara, Kara, his brain cries, his lips following.

Dimly, Lee is aware that he will probably die here, that this will lead to no good end. But then again, he's long known that Kara Thrace would be the death of him someday.

He falls to the ground, multiple copies of the woman of his dreams caressing, stroking, straddling him, and all Lee can think is that there's no other way he'd rather go.

 

**A Fine Mess**

It's the first day of summer solstice on Caprica, yet it's already so hot out that Lee's vanilla ice cream cone is threatening to turn into a puddle. He licks quickly and carefully, holding it away from his body to avoid the mess.

Next to him, Kara's ignoring her chocolate cone, letting it drip all over her hand while she rails about the ridiculousness of his choice in flavors. "....I'm just saying, the sign says 31 flavors! You could have gotten something like chocolate mint fudge ripple, but what do you pick? Vanilla. Boring vanilla. Gods, that is so like you, LELAND."

He rolls his eyes as she talks, and just focuses on his cone, polishing off the soggy confection and wishing he had grabbed an extra napkin. "I don't like chocolate," he says when she pauses for a breath.

Kara stops in the middle of the sidewalk at this news, staring at him with wide eyes. "What?! Who doesn't like chocolate?!"

"Uh, me."

She narrows her eyes at him. "Maybe you're like...I don't know, a cylon or something. It's unCaprican not to like chocolate, Lee. It's- it's inhuman!" 

She punctuates this last statement with a wave of her hand and suddenly, Lee is wearing Kara's ice cream cone. He looks down in dismay as chocolate ice cream slides from his collarbone to his sternum, before dropping to the ground. 

"KARA!" He yells, but she's already cackling, her head thrown back, and shoulders shaking. "I can't believe this! We don't even have any napkins!"

She actually rolls her eyes at him. "Oh my gods, you are such a priss, Lee Adama." Then she gets a gleam in her eye. "Come'ere, alright, I'll fix it." 

"Just- just forget it," he says, not liking the look on her face. For as long as he's known Kara Thrace--two years, since he transferred to Caprica High and she kicked his ass in a game of pyramid that broke the school's record for high scores--that look has always meant danger. She's his best friend, and he'd probably give her the shirt off his back if she asked, but she attracts trouble like there's a magnet shoved up her ass. "I'm gonna head home to change."

Her lips curve into a pout immediately, and even though his house is three blocks in the other direction, Lee doesn't turn away. He finds he can't, his eyes pinned to the way her lips purse, the fuller bottom one sporting a chocolate smear from the cone she was eating. Lee flushes immediately, feeling sweat form on his brow. Damn weather, he tells himself. 

"I said I'd fix it," Kara insists, stepping close to him and grabbing his shoulders. Her lips twist again into a smirk-- _and Gods, why can't he stop staring at her mouth?_ \--and then she's darting forward, ducking her head under his neck, pressing that mouth to his collarbone. His brain shorts out, because Kara is sucking on his skin, the heat of her mouth replacing the chill of the ice cream, and his knees nearly buckle. Lee's hands lift, directionless for a second, and then they land on her hips, bracing and gripping for balance.

He should tell her to stop. They're on a public street for Gods' sakes, and passersby keep shooting them these curious glances. It probably doesn't help that Kara is making all this...noise, wet, smacking sounds that are shooting straight to his dick. Lee swallows hard; there's no way in hell he's telling her to stop. His eyes tilt down, watching as she slides her mouth lower, licking up the ice cream rivulets all the way to the edge of his pyramid uniform tank, and by the time she finally leans back with one last smack, he's totally witless.

Kara grins into his face, crinkles her nose in this way she has sometimes when she's particularly proud of herself, and says, "There. All better."

Lee doesn't say anything, just stares at her, eyes wide, heart still pounding. 

"What? Don't I get a thank you for cleaning up my mess, Lee?" She's smirking again. 

"Thanks, Kara," he breathes, in a daze.

"No problem," she shrugs. "Least I could do, right?" Her hands are still resting on his shoulders and there's only a few inches between them, but she leans closer still, lowers her voice. "Good thing I didn't dump it in your lap, huh?" 

And she winks.

 

**Pillow Talk**

Kara hasn't sat through this many boring briefings since the Academy. But despite the fact that the whole damn world's gone pretty much Fubar, Cain is clearly a stickler for military protocol. It's only been a week since she and Lee got transferred over, but she's already sat through a dozen of these ancient training videos. Not one of 'em had a scrap of useful intel either. 

Her eyelids droop. That pissant of a CAG's been scheduling her on triple shifts the last few days as punishment for "insubordination." Kara scowls. All she did was state the frakking obvious, that the man wouldn't know his ass from a cylon diversionary tactic if his life depended on it. Which it did! All of their lives did. Not for the first time, she fumed over the fact that Lee had been demoted. At least he was here with her though. It was about the only thing that made this frakking tour of duty bearable. 

Kara swallowed another yawn. It was warm in the darkened briefing room with all the available squadrons piled in here, and her eyelids drooped again, her head nodding slightly. 

She stirred when someone kicked her ankle. Lee's voice buzzed low in her ear. "Hey Kara, look alert. Ringer keeps glancing over here, and you know there'll be hell to pay if he catches you."

She scowls, but knows he's right and drags her eyes open again. She keeps one trained on Ringer and three minutes later, an enlisted officer comes in with a message and he follows her out of the room. Kara has to get some shuteye or else. Gratefully she closes her eyes again, and sleep claims her almost immediately.

She only stirs again when she hears voices. Kara's eyes open and the lights are flickering on, pilots standing all around them, although the room seems to be sloping now in a way that it didn't before. Awareness rushes her, and she feels fabric under her cheek, warmth against her side, just as Lee's voice buzzes low in her ear again. "I'm guessing I make a good pillow, judging by the drool on my jacket, but it's time to rise and shine, Starbuck."

She snaps her head up from where it rests on his shoulder, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and Lee starts laughing next to her. Really frakking loudly. Ringer's glaring at them and the other pilots are smirking, and Kara nudges Lee with her elbow and mutters, "I do not drool." 

She's already halfway to the hatch, when he moves in front of her, turning to keep facing her as he walks backwards. "I think this big wet mark on my chest proves otherwise actually." 

There is indeed a distinct dark spot on Lee's dress blues right over his wings. Embarassed, she tries to deflect. "Color me shocked," she drawls sarcastically. "Mr. Spit and Polish let me deface his precious uniform. Why didn't you just wake me up anyway?"

His face splits into a huge grin. "Because then I wouldn't have the pleasure of seeing that very attractive case of bedhead you're sporting, Starbuck." She reaches up and rakes a hand through her hair, fingers getting stuck in a snarled puff over her right ear. "Frak!" 

"Aw don't be embarrassed, Kara," Lee says, still grinning like a cat who ate a canary. "That's nothing compared to some of the things you were saying in your sleep." 

Lee winks and starts running, his laughter echoing loudly down the halls of the Pegasus as she gives chase.

**A Hard Bargain**

Lee starts to notice a certain pattern in the days after D'Anna Beers and her camera crew sweep through the Galactica. It's a curious phenomenon as it only seems to be happening to him.

His towels keep disappearing. 

He'd thought it was a fluke at first. The head is always busy, pilots bustling in and out after a CAP shift ends, and things can easily get misplaced. People pick up the wrong shower kit or towel or even the wrong set of sweats from time to time. Everyone's rushing, everyone's clothes look basically the same, it happens. 

But it keeps happening to Lee, he starts to notice, and no one else. He's pretty good natured about at first, figures it's just a joke because of the stupid video, and shrugs off all the taunts about him losing his towel again. But the fifth time he walks out of the showers only to find no cloth waiting for him on the bench, his temper starts to boil a bit. Lee groans and walks as quickly as possible to the shelf where the spares are kept....only to find that empty too. Frowning, he marches over to the shower block again and snag's Hot Dog's. The younger pilot will just have to fend for himself, Lee thinks, considering his appropriation a perk of command.

When he finally makes it back to the bunkroom, irritable now, he finds a little surprise waiting on his rack. It's a photograph. A photograph of a towel. And someone's scrawled on the back, in handwriting he's pretty sure he recognizes, "Want it back? You'll have to pay up."

Lee turns to look at Kara's rack, with its conveniently closed curtain. He steps over to it and draws the curtain back, only to see Kara sitting there grinning up at him, a fluffy blue towel in her lap. 

"Very funny, Starbuck." He sighs and holds out a hand. "I think this little joke's gone far enough now. Gimme."

She arches an eyebrow and stashes the towel behind her back. "Oh I don't think so. You see I'm holding this towel hostage. I couldn't possibly return it until you agree to meet my demand." 

Lee steps forward and ducks down, leaning into her space and planting a hand into the mattress on either side of Kara's hips. His lips twist into a smile and he looks directly into her eyes. "And what would that be?

Kara grins, raises an eyebrow at him and brings her face close to his. "Next time you decide to lose your towel, Apollo?" Her lips quiver with amusement and the rest comes out as a husky murmur. "I want the front-row view, not the back." 

His eyes widen and Lee waits a bit for Kara to laugh, play it off as a joke. But she doesn't, she just stares at him, and then her tongue peeks out to wet her lips. Lee swallows, knowing Kara only does that when she's nervous. 

Which means she's serious. 

His face splits into a wide-grin. "Well, you drive a hard bargain, lieutenant." Lee presses forward, moves his mouth over to her ear. "But then again, under the right circumstances," he moves his hands, sliding them over the few inches to grip her hips, "so do I." 

Kara takes a small shuddering breath, her gaze locked on his, and one eyebrow raise, intrigue and expectation on her face. "And exactly what circumstances are those, Captain?"

"Well, for starters, front row just isn't going to cut it," Lee tilts his head and shrugs, a wicked smile curving his lips. "We're going to need to arrange a private showing," he purrs, climbing into her rack and drawing the curtain.

Sadly, the towel was never heard from again. 

 

**A Moment on the Lips**

Zak is on the phone when Lee finally gets there, Caprica rush hour traffic having been particularly bad today. He's calming their mother with silver-tongued assurances that they're already on their way and rolls his eyes at Lee, whispering "Would you go grab Kara? She's still getting ready." 

He swallows and turns down the hall. The door's ajar, but Lee still hesitates for a second before knocking lightly then pushing the door open. 

"Hey Kara, you almost ready to go?"

She's frowning into the mirror over the dresser, her hand raised to her lips as she slicks on gloss from a tube. Lee's eyes widen. 

"Wait, are you... wearing makeup? Did they pass a law or something I don't know about?"

Kara shoots him a dirty look, chucking the finger at him for good measure. "Shut the frak up," she grouses lightly, then grimaces at her reflection again and applies more gloss to her puckered lips. "Just figured I should try and look presentable for the big introduction."

Sarcasm drips form her words, but Lee doesn't miss the way her hand shakes a bit as she drops the tube back on the counter. 

He tries a joke. "Starbuck, destroyer of the skies, is freaked out about meeting the parents? Actually, you know, dad's not even gonna be there, it's just mom."

"Yeah, well, moms aren't usually too fond of me." Her face darkens slightly and she adds, half under her breath, "Just ask mine."

Lee blinks, but quickly tries to hide his surprise. In six months, never once has Kara mentioned her parents. The very topic has acquired an air of mystery because of her total radio silence, but it's clearly a sore spot, and she's already upset. 

"Gods, it's too much! I look like a frakking circus clown!" Kara groans, swipes her fingers against very glossy lips, then rakes a hand through her hair. She's wearing it loose for once, straight and shining as it tumbles onto her shoulders, and his eyes follow down, then over the deep green sweater and pressed black pants she's wearing. 

He steps closer, lays a hand on her arm. "Kara, relax, okay? You look great," he squeezes gently till she lifts her eyes to him. She looks so worried. Lee smiles and the last part tumbles before he can think. "Mom's gonna love you just like we do."

Kara's eyes widen slightly and Lee knows she didn't miss that he stupidly said "we" when he should have said "Zak". But the tension on her face eases finally, and she smiles at him, full and soft, and he doesn't really regret it. "That'd be nice," Kara's face changes again, taking on an open, almost hopeful cast he's never seen her wear before. "I figured I should make a good impression," she pauses slightly, "because her sons are pretty important to me."

Sons. _Plural._

Lee couldn't stop the wide smile that curves his mouth even if he'd wanted to. They stand there, staring, charged air between them, and his hand still on her arm, until Zak's voice booms out, startling them. "Guys, I'm going to pull the car around, Ok? Meet me outside!" 

Lee drops his hand away like it's on fire, and clears his throat. Kara twists back to face the mirror, and he sees her chest rise on a huge inhale, like she'd forgotten to breathe. She reaches for a tissue box, only to find it empty, as Lee keeps watching, dazed. 

The apartment door slams. Lee shakes his head, tells himself to snap out of it. "You ready?" He takes a step towards the door, but then it's Kara's hand falling on his arm.

"Wait!"

He stops, hesitates just a second before turning back to her, but he does turn. And then she's right there, leaning into him. Perfume and citrus shampoo fill his nose, but both are obliterated in a second by the overwhelming scent of cherries as her lips, slick and glossy and overly sweet, meet his. 

It only lasts a second, the quick press of her kiss, her mouth both harder and softer than he'd imagined, but it's enough to make him shiver. 

And want. 

Lee's hands start to lift to her waist, on instinct, but Kara pulls away, squints at her mouth in the glass. Apparently satisfied with what she sees finally, she grins at him. "OK, now I'm ready."

Dinner goes off without a hitch. Kara charms his mother, and Zak can't stop raving about the excellent food.

Lee has to take his word on it. For the rest of the night, all he can taste is cherries.

 

**Trespassing**

Kara slams the shot glass back down to the table with a satisfied grin.

It's been a long time since she's had anything more to celebrate than just managing to make it through another godsdamn cruddy day. She beams at the man sitting next to her, strong and healthy and whole. And hers. Hell, Kara has half a mind to scribble her frakking name on him.

Then, with adrenaline and alcohol and anticipation buzzing through her veins, making her head spin, Kara turns to the man across from her and cackles, "Lee, when are you gonna get yourself a girl?"

What she expects is that his pinched face will draw tighter, that little muscle in his jaw will start jumping, his shoulders will square and rise like they always do when she ribs him about anything even remotely related to sex. Same old Lee.

What she doesn't expect is for him to slam his own shot glass down on the table and practically march out of the bunkroom without another word.

"Where's he going?" Kara huffs, half to herself, annoyance immediately trumping all those other A-words she's feeling. She didn't even get a chance to tease him about Dee and cradle robbing yet. Kara scowls at the hatch.

"Hey, baby, forget it," Sam says, all conciliatory tones, his hand cupping her face and turning her back to him. "I'll meet your friends later. We can have a private party right now," he grins, almost leering as he leans in to kiss her, but Kara jerks away.

"No, he's being frakking obnoxious!" Kara nearly yells. She's not even sure why she's so angry, but she's positively seething with it now. Same old Lee. Like she hasn't sat through a billion frakking triad games watching him and Dualla...

But she's already up before her brain can finish that train of though. "I'll be right back Sammy." She ignores his protests for her to come back and sit down, and tears off through the hatch, getting halfway down the hall in less than a minute.

"Hey!" she yells at Lee's back and he freezes, knowing it's for him. "What the hell was that?!"

Momentum propelling her forward, she shoves his shoulder, and he pivots with military precision. It's all there, the pinched line between his brows, the muscle jumping on the side of the jaw and Kara has a grim strum of satisfaction just seeing it. "What is your frakking problem?"

Lee glares at her, steps forward, and she was already practically on top of him, so Kara has to step back. "You really want to know what my frakking problem is, Captain?"

"Yeah, I want to know,  _Major_." He's still moving toward her, and Kara backs up again, suddenly feeling off balance even though she can feel the solid bulkhead at her back now. Lee's eyes are hot with fury, burning holes through her, and Kara sucks in a breath under his scrutiny. What the frak is going on here?

He leans in close and Kara watches his nostrils flare, her stomach flipping suddenly. His voice is low and full of gravel, the words coming out slow and deliberate. "I am sick and frakking tired of your--" then he just stops. Stops speaking entirely, something changing in his eyes, and Kara can't read it and that makes her all the more pissed off too.

All the more... _something_ anyway.

"My what?" she asks, sharp. Waiting for him to say it. Wanting him to put a label on it. To drag an old wound open and pour some more salt on it.

He doesn’t answer, but she can see his throat work, Adam's Apple bobbing like Lee swallowed all his words. Kara licks her lips. "My what, Lee?" she repeats, breathless this time.

He's silent, blue eyes just staring and staring, and Kara deflates. There's nothing here. She starts to turn, back to the bunkroom, where there is something, someone waiting for her.

Then suddenly Lee's grabbing her, hands biting into her arms, as he yanks her back to him, pushing her against the bunkhead with his body and then his mouth is crashing down on hers.

Kara's drowning, but she opens her mouth under his anyway, teeth snagging skin, tongues driving deep. Lee shifts hard against her, slides a knee between her thighs. His mouth is hot and hungry and furious, and perfect. She sinks, reaches out, settles her palms against his ribs, but at the touch, Lee wrenches away.

He steps back once, then twice, separating them completely and his face is dark and unreadable. Blinking and wide-eyed, Kara stares back at him as her hands drift awkwardly back down to her sides. Lee pivots again and walks away, his footsteps striking evenly on the metal decking.

Kara sags back against the wall, one hand rising to her mouth. Her fingers brush her lips, which spread into a slow smile.

_Well. That makes things more complicated_ , she thinks, and Kara laughs all the way back to the bunkroom.

 

**He’s Got His Mind on His Mission and His Mission on His Mind**

When he hears the news, it's through the intraship grapevine. Not his wife, for once, though he'll wonder afterwards how long before him Dee knew and if she ever would have told him. 

The hard, bright consonants of a callsign prick his ears as Lee passes the ready room en route to CIC, and he stops abruptly, going utterly still. A pair of junior officers smack right into him, nervously twittering and saluting amidst mumbled apologies and wary-eyed stares. Finally, Lee moves, out of the stream of traffic into the nearest empty room and closes the hatch, sagging against it and wondering if this is what a heart attack feels like. 

_Toasters took Starbuck too._  

Four words, half as many seconds, and it's as though the worlds have ended all over again. Lee bends at the waist, fumbles a hand at the buttons of his jacket. He can't catch his breath. 

He and his father have been meeting for weeks, tense conversations as the ground situation worsens despite the fallacy of peaceful occupation Baltar and his minions profess. They'd known that the cylons have been taking people, heard the whispered reports, hadn't known what to do. 

No, that wasn't exactly true, though. His father had plans. He wouldn't leave anyone, not one man, behind, he'd insisted, while Lee pressed him to think of the greater good. It was all a numbers game at this point, he'd argued. Get out now with the people left, the ones who hadn't deserted-- _settled_ , he corrects himself--settled on that godsforsaken mudball, while they still had the remnants of a civilization left. 

It was a cold call, he could see the accusation in his father's eyes, which was ironic considering it was Bill's order that had taught him the lesson, as the Olympic carrier disappeared in a fiery blaze. But it was the right one, too. Practical.

And if he had personal reasons for not particularly caring what happened to the settlers...well, those were his business.

Now though...in an instant, everything is different.  _They took her_ , he thinks.  _They took her, they took her_. It's all Lee can think, over and over. He repeats it to himself like a mantra, instantly replacing the one he's clutched at like a talisman for the past year:  _I hate her, I hate her._

Before he's even aware of it, he's moving, almost running back to his quarters. Thankfully it's the middle of watchshift, and Dee's on duty, he remembers as he opens the closet, reaches for the flight suit hanging in the back. 

It doesn't fit. Lee freezes, his brain stalling along with his body, and then he's moving again. Old habits die hard, apparently, but he doesn't need a frakking viper to get planetside.

He's out of breath by the time he gets to the hangar and tells Laird he needs a raptor prepped for New Caprica RFN. Lee phones the CIC to tell them he's sick and that the XO's in charge. He fidgets for the few seconds it takes for the officer to relay the message. He half expects Dee to pick up the communication, demand proof or buffet him with concern and questions, and he's not sure which would be worse, but she does not. 

Five minutes later, Lee steps into the bird, hoping his training will come back to him as he takes the controls. It's a sloppy flight and a bumpy hands-on landing under cover of night in a quiet patch of woods, and then he's on the ground, breathing fresh air instead of recycled oxygen for the first time since--

Best not to think of that now. Lee grabs a flashlight and sets off on foot, his eyes on the detention towers in the distance. He Mark One Eyeball's the trek at approximately three-and-a-half kliks, and curses the extra weight he's carrying. For his old self, it wouldn't be a problem, but now with this baggage, every step is harder.

His pace is quick though, even as the wind starts buffeting him. Cold air chaps his face and his eyes tear up, but Lee trudges on, the gap closing with every step forward. He doesn't think about how crazy this is, a one-man assault with no backup on a heavily guarded cylon complex. He doesn't think about what happens if he finds her...or if he doesn't. All he thinks of, over and over, as the tears course down his cheeks, is the new mantra embedding itself in his head ( _heart_ ):

_I'm coming, Kara. Hold on._

 

**Cookies and Milk**

"Thank you." Lee says politely, and takes another algae cookie, flashing what he hopes is a pleasant smile at Hera. The girl just watches him, waiting, and next to him, he can Kara's breathing hitching, like she's trying not to laugh. Reluctantly he takes a bite, chewing without breathing.

Hera nods, satisfied and takes the plate back through the mess to the kitchen. No sooner does the hatch swing shut than Kara busts out laughing, grabbing his arm and leaning close. 

"You should see your face!"

Lee swallows, grimacing as the gritty "cookies" that Master Sergeant Paulsen is letting Hera make in his kitchen (a miracle in itself) get stuck in his throat. Kara hands him her water, still giggling. 

He takes a long swig, washing the taste away with some relief. "Well if you had to eat two plates of those things, you'd be looking kind of rough too, you know." 

"Better watch it then, Apollo," she says, smacking a hand against his newly flat again abs, and smirks in his face. "You're a flyboy again, remember? I don't think the quartermaster can take out the seams on your flight suit." 

"Hey!" he protests, and wraps his arms around Kara's waist and pulls her down onto his lap. She squeaks with surprise and then she's laughing again, as her arms circle his neck and she leans into him. "I thought we agreed never to speak of that dark period again," he says. 

Kara shrugs, her eyes glinting as she says innocently, "You know that never would have happened if we'd been together."

"Oh really, and whose fault is that?" He arches an eyebrow at Kara, but his tone is light. It's hard to believe that it was only six months ago when Kara asked him if he'd leave Dee if she left Sam. The night Kat died. It feels like a lifetime, but he's still relieved, and a little surprised, they can joke about this now. Part of him knows he should feel guiltier--innocent people, good people hurt, and two failed marriages that never should have happened in the first place--but it's impossible when the last six months have been the happiest days of his whole frakking life. 

She rolls her eyes at him. "Whatever. I'm just saying," she grins wickedly, and tilts her head to whisper in his ear. "We would have been having far, far too much sex for you to get fat." She nips his earlobe, and slides her tongue down his neck. 

He groans as Kara finds the pressure point that she knows drives him nuts and starts sucking on his skin. Lee closes his eyes, and slides a hand under her tank, tracing circles on the warm skin of her lower back. "Maybe we should go work off these cookies," he murmurs.

But Kara pulls away. "Can't. We're on babysitting duty, remember? Karl and Sharon will kill us if we leave her here with Paulsen to go frak."

He frowns. "I guess." Then pauses stricken, his eyes darting to the kitchen, where he hears ominous clanging noises. "Do you think they're making more in there? Oh gods, I can't eat another one of those things."

"Aw, poor baby," Kara coos mockingly and drops a kiss on his nose. "Should've developed a sudden allergy to algae like me," she winks. "Just think, though, it could always be worse."

"Yeah, how?"

"You'd probably be drinking motor oil milkshakes if it was our kid," she says and laughs.

Lee's heart skips a beat. He tries to sound normal when he asks, "Our kid?"

Kara's face sobers, tightening a little, but she just shrugs. 

He blinks, feeling like someone just slugged him in the gut with a hammer. Is Kara seriously thinking about kids? 

"What?" she huffs, defensive now.

Lee shrugs. He tries to keep the tone light, as he says, "Oh I don't know. Aren't you the same girl who snickered about pissy rugrats and made fun of me wanting a 'porch swing' once upon a time?"

It backfires. Kara's face darkens and she stiffens in his arms. "Thought it was a girl's prerogative to change her mind, Lee. Never mind. Just frakking forget it." 

She struggles to stand, but Lee locks his arms, holding her tighter. He stares, craning his head because she won't meet his gaze, and scrutinizing her face for a clue of where this is all coming from. He's shocked to see the glint of moisture in Kara's eyes.

It scares him, because it's not the Kara he's grown accustomed to over the last few months. She's been happy too, happier than he'd ever seen her. In fact, the only time she wasn't...the last time she'd looked like this... she'd gone down to see... 

It hits him suddenly, like a ton of bricks. He's a frakking idiot.

He lifts a hand to Kara's cheek, and turns her face gently back to him. Lee meets her eyes and says softly, "Kacey?"

She doesn't answer but her chin wobbles a little, and Lee pulls her to him. A few weeks after they officially got together and Kara had moved into his quarters, she'd had a nightmare. After much cajoling, she'd told him all about what had happened on New Caprica--the Leoben model brainwashing her, making her think Kacey was hers. She still visited the girl occasionally and Lee should've realized she probably felt differently about the whole thing now. He hugs her a little bit tighter.

After a minute, Kara shifts, straightening up and pressing her forehead to his, and then she raises her hand to cup his face and kisses him, almost fiercely. She breaks the kiss, but keeps her head pressed to his. Kara's mouth curves a little, and she strokes her thumb over his cheek, and says quietly. "Not just Kacey." 

It takes a second to sink in, what she's saying. And then Lee gets it, and he grins, grateful and relieved and impossibly happy about the prospect of someday maybe drinking a motor oil milkshake.

 

**Change of Heart**

Excitement thrums through Kara as she marks off the final item on her pre-flight checklist. It'll be a grueling trip back to Caprica but they're waiting for her. He's waiting 

She bites back the stupid grin tugging at her lips and hands the clipboard to the Chief 

"Everything good, Cap?"

"Good enough, Chief. Let's roll." He nods and walks away 

Kara takes a breath and places a foot on the ladder to the cockpit. She's just grasping the rails to pull herself up when a loud exclamation makes her turn.

"Gods frakking dammit!" Chief is yelling, pale-faced and furious as he hangs up the phone. "Cally! Jammer! I need tubes 3 and 4 cleared and two raptors prepped for the Pegasus RFN!"

Pegasus? Kara pivots. "Chief! What's going on?" He ignores her, pacing rapidly across the deck, shouting out orders, and Kara strides faster to catch up. "CHIEF! I need a sitrep stat!"

Tyrol turns, looking almost surprised to see her. "Captain you need to get out of here, we need these tubes free!" 

Kara grinds her teeth, reaches out and grabs the man by his orange jumpsuit, barely resisting the urge to shake the information out of him. "WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THE PEGASUS?"

He blinks and says quietly. "Cylons have boarded the ship, sir." 

Lee, she thinks and freezes, her heart hammering into overdrive. And then she's moving, running back to her ship, calling over her shoulder. "Change my flight course, Chief." 

"What about the mission?" he yells after her 

But Kara's already up the ladder and sliding her helmet on, closing the canopy above her. She powers up the viper, trying to breathe and not think. Her hand's shaking as she reaches for the console, and it pauses over the button to clear the jump coordinates. She closes her eyes, and for a second she pictures Anders, cornered at the school, those metal motherfrakkers pinning him and the C-Bucs down. And then the image ripples, dark hair and blue eyes shifting and it's Lee's face she's seeing 

Kara curses and sends a prayer up to the gods in the same breath. Sammy will be alright. Helo will make sure. But Lee...

Lee needs her.

The landing gear disengages and Kara grasps the throttle and floors it, hurtling out of the launch bay and into the dark of space 

***

She takes down two of those metal motherfrakkers and a skinjob before she finds him, in the corridor outside of CIC, armed to the teeth and shouting commands to two pale-faced bridge bunnies who barely look old enough to shave tagging behind him. Blood spatters his dress blues and the side of his face, but he's upright and he's pissed off and that's a good sign. This time Kara lets the stupid grin stretch from ear to ear, as she falls in next to him 

"You provide cover fire, lieutenant, and we need to get down to Causeway C where the arms lockers are." 

"Copy that, sir, but it's captain now," Kara says, grinning as Lee's head whips around 

"Kara! What the--?" He stops, his eyes wide with amazement. "Shouldn't you be halfway back to Caprica right now, Captain?"

Kara shrugs, squeezes off a round as another cylon clanks into view at the end of the corridor. Lee fires too and the robot falls under the combined barrage of their bullets 

"Had another rescue op that took priority." She chances a glance at him. "Heard my wingman got himself into a bit of trouble."

A slow smile spreads across Lee's face. "Your wingman? Did you just demote me, Starbuck?" 

Kara rolls her eyes, still grinning. "Is now really the time to be a superior asshole, Apollo?" 

They just stand there, staring and grinning, until one of the lieutenants behind them coughs then nervously says, "Uh sirs, should we get going?" 

Lee straightens and the smile drops off his face. "Fall in," he barks, his voice ringing with authority. "Have your weapons ready, but conserve your ammo. It's imperative we secure that locker."

"Yes, sir, Commander!" The lieutenants chorus, and a sense of nostalgia fills Kara. She's missed this. Missed him.

"Starbuck?" Lee questions at her silence. "Are you with me?"

She is. She always will be. Kara salutes, eyes sparkling. "On your six, Apollo."

 

**Easy Targets**

Kara fires her last round into the cylon. Right through the heart 

With a satisfied smirk, she lays her weapon down and presses the button. As the paper target automatically draws closer, she can see five neat holes lined up from brain to chest. Next to her, Smokescreen shoots her a dirty look, yanks his own target down, but not before Kara notices his shots went so wide that one merely clipped the edge of the paper.

She grins triumphantly as he scowls and turns, heading for the hatch. When it swings shut and quiet descends, Kara drops the target and starts moving toward the Pegasus shooting range’s only remaining occupant. She’s been trying to catch him alone all day.

Lee yanks his headphones off and meets her halfway. “You heard?” he asks in a low voice.

“Yeah,” she says, her tone equally hushed, like even admitting it might land her in the brig too. Kara huffs a breath, her voice strained. “Gods, Lee. They’re not even gonna get a real trial!"

His jaw clenches and he shakes his head. “You know, I spent so many nights on Galactica just-- just wishing that I was somewhere else. Anywhere. Sometimes,” Lee's voice crackles like he’s breathing gravel instead of air, “sometimes I even wished I’d been planetside when the bombs hit." 

Her head snaps up at that because she needs to see his eyes, but the expression in them, so flat and hopeless, chills Kara. An ugly smirk twists his lips. “And now I spend every night wishing I was back on Galactica. How’s that for irony, huh?”

“Lee,” she breathes, but she doesn’t know what to say next. There’s nothing to say.

His eyes go dark and sad, then his hand lifts to her face, his fingers barely grazing her skin as he smooths a lock of hair off her face. “What happened to Sharon, and to that other prisoner in the brig-- What if that’s not the end of it, Kara? What if-- ” he pauses, his voice choked with emotion, and his hand drifts away. “What if they try to hurt you?" 

“Lee,” Kara tries again, and stops again, still lacking for words. She can’t disagree, can’t assure him that won’t happen--not when it’s been lurking in the back of her mind too. But she tries anyway. “They won’t. Alright? Sharon and-- they’re cylons.” It’s a weak defense, and using it makes Kara’s gut clench, as if that somehow gives those sick frakkers permission to do what they did 

“Yeah, sure,” He says bitterly, “and what about when they decide that doesn’t matter anymore? When they’re just looking for someone--anyone--to hate? You heard what my father said when he gave us our papers. They’re gunning for us. And we’re easy targets."

He’s right, she knows it, and it scares Kara more than she’s willing to admit. “No.” She shakes her head resolutely. “Those bastards are dead. Karl and Chief killed them.” A wave of nausea sweeps through her at the thought that if Cain has her way—and she’s the Admiral, so she will—her friends will meet the same fate.

Lee doesn’t argue, just shakes his head and rubs a hand over his jaw. “And I’m glad. So help me, but I am. I am."

She stares, surprised. “You are?” It’s not what she expects from him somehow. She expects Lee to frown and say something about two wrongs not making a right, or violence not being the answer to violence. Hell, she’s kinda pissed at Karl herself for getting into this predicament in the first place falling for a damn cylon. “They’re gonna-” her voice breaks and Kara bites her lip and has to start over. “She’ll airlock them for this!”

For a long moment, Lee doesn’t answer, just stares down at the floor. Then he reaches out and grasps her hands. He lifts his head finally and his eyes flash darkly, locked on hers. “I know, but if it had been me…and that had happened to you?" His fingers squeeze tightly around hers. "I would’ve killed them all too, Kara." 

She stares, speechless, unable to think of a single thing to say. So she doesn’t say anything at all. Kara just tips her face up to Lee's and kisses him.

 

**The Lying Game**

The game of Scrabble, donated by a civvie back in the early days of the war, was missing half of its vowel tiles and a quarter of the consonants by this point. But they'd been on the run for two months, triad got old, and entertainment was scarce. So they kept playing.

Lee walked into the rec room as they were starting a new game, and sank down gingerly into a chair. 

Across from him, Crashdown whistled as he held out the box of tiles for Lee to pick from. "Hell of a bruise, there, Cap." He nodded his chin towards Lee's neck, where a round, purplish mark graced the CAG's skin.

Lee smiled, tightly, "Electric razor burned me," and moved his tiles to the board to start the game by spelling out "FIB".

Racetrack raised an eyebrow, then smirked, as her gaze skimmed down his arm. "Hmm, looks like you're having an awfully clumsy week, Apollo?" Her eyes skipped knowingly to where three parallel scratches scored his bicep in lines of red.

He flushed, and muttered something about bumping into the hatch, and concentrated on his next turn, lining up the letters "LIE" on his tile holder. 

Just then a familiar voice sounded from the hatch. "Gee, guys, if I didn't know any better, I'd say our CAG's been getting some action." Kara was beaming like the cat who ate the canary, eyes sparkling as she sauntered over to the tableside. 

Lee swallowed hard, well aware of the four pairs of eyes watching him avidly. He reached over to the board and played his hand. "Right, Starbuck, because I have so much free time to frak around, when I'm not drowning in maintenance orders and CAP rosters, and trying like hell to keep your vipers in the air and your asses in line." Carefully not meeting her eyes, Lee grabbed some more tiles, and added them to his holder, rearranging some to spell "STALL". 

Across the table, Hot Dog looked chagrinned. "Sorry, Sir." The others chimed in with apologies too, mumbling and looking embarassed. Not Starbuck, of course, she just cocked an eyebrow at Lee, a grin playing on her lips. 

Then suddenly the claxons sounded, indicating a shift change. All of his opponents were on duty and they all filed out of the hatch hastily, abandoning the game. Kara followed behind them, more slowly as she wasn't on shift, he knew.

About the only perk of slaving over the rosters was the chance to make sure their shifts coincided. And their down time did too.

Kara shut the hatch and dogged it, then strutted back to Lee, pushing his chair back with her boot and dropping down onto his lap. Her grin got broader, and her hand raised to his neck, thumb brushing lightly over the bruised skin. "I do good work." 

"I thought we said no marks, Kara." He shuddered a breath out as her fingers glided on his skin. "God, I can't believe they're that gullible. Either that or I'm a much better liar than I thought." 

Kara chuckled. "C'mon Lee, you didn't want to tell them how it really happened?" She leaned closer, stopping a breath away from his lips. He watched Kara's tongue peak out and glide over hers and his body tightened with arousal. She spoke again, her tone, low and teasing, "Tell your little fan club there all about how the CAG frakked the Fleet's top gun, right here, on this very table." She let her fingers walk down his throat, across his shoulder to trace the lines on his arm. "How he cried out, again and again" she ground her hips down against his, "wanting it faster," Kara bucked again and his cock hardened instantly, "and harder", he could feel the heat of her groin through his pants, and Lee growled with desire, "and just begging for more." Her hand slid down his arm and landed on the bulge in his BDUs, and Lee could stand no more. 

He locked his arms around Kara and caught her mouth, kissing her deeply as he lifted her up onto the table. Tiles went flying, clattering to the floor, but Lee paid no mind as his fingers went to work on Kara's clothes. 

This was a new and much more satisfying game to play. 

 

**Dangerous Games**

Lee isn't sure how they managed to talk him into this, but the six rounds of Picon whiskey shooters might have had something to do with it.

Now he's on his hands and knees practically in the middle of Kara's living room, playing a game he hasn't since high school. A game that's bound to get him into trouble. 

From the safety of the armchair in the corner, Zak gleefully calls out, "Right hand on red!" 

Lee stretches for a spot near the top of the row, thinking it's a safe distance from Kara, who's crouched near his ankles. But then suddenly she's shouting "Make a hole, Adama! I'm coming through!" and she's slithering under his arm to smack a hand down, claiming the furthest red dot. 

Lee arches higher, bridging his body so he touches Kara as little as possible. It's been months since that first night, on the table, when they'd almost ruined everything in one ambrosia-fueled indiscretion. But they'd moved past it, the three of them developing a surprisingly easy friendship for their differences. 

Still, he tries not to touch her more than is strictly necessary. So when she tilts, cackling at some joke of Zak's that he missed, and the side of her breast presses into the crook of his elbow, Lee gulps. 

"C'mon already, Zak," he says, too impatient. "Call the next move, I want to finish before the pizza gets here."

"Hold your horses, bro," his little brother says, rolling his eyes. "You can't rush a master."

Beneath him, Kara snorts. "A master of that....that spinny thing?! Wow, Zak, your parents must be so proud." He watches the back of her blonde head shake with laughter. "I guess everyone has a s-skill," she chokes out amid guffaws. Her drunken amusement makes Kara tilt again, this time to the other side, her hip knocking into his groin, and without thinking Lee lifts his free hand to the curve of her waist to steady her. She's wearing low-slung jeans and a cropped top, so his fingers meet bare skin and rough denim, and Lee grips her a little harder than he intends. 

"Hey, hands on the mat, Leland, not my girl!" his brother calls, whirling the game board dial with a flourish. Lee lets go immediately, muttering an apology, as Zak cries, "Right hand on green, now!" 

Green is on the opposite side of the mat and as Lee goes to move, so does Kara. She flips over onto her back, one hand propping her up on the second green dot, just as he reaches out diagonally to plant his hand on the first one. And suddenly, he is face to face with Kara, his body twisted over hers, his arms bracketing her body, one propped over her shoulder, the other low near her hip. She smirks, lips inches away from his and when she takes a deep breath, their stomachs touch.

"Leland?" Kara raises one eyebrow.

He watches her lips trace the shape of his name and forgets to answer.

"They named you Leland?!" she repeats incredulously. "Gods, I guess Zak really is the favorite."

She's beaming wide, clearly joking, but it stings more than it should. So he lets himself drop down slightly, crowding her, and lowers his voice to a near-growl. "That's not very nice, Kara." 

Her eyes glitter, lips curving into a smirk, and for once she has no snappy comeback. She just stares. And he stares back. 

"Left hand yellow!" Zak interjects loudly, his tone slightly shrill. 

Still holding Lee's eyes, Kara shifts beneath him, her body stretching, as she slides her hand unerringly onto the last yellow dot in the row. 

There's only one spot open that Lee can reach....right between Kara's thighs. 

She glances down finally, sees it just as he does, then looks up. The smirk disappears, and a speculative gleam shines in her eyes. Kara shifts, spreads her legs slightly and pretty much all of the blood in Lee's brain rushes to parts farther south. He freezes.

"C'mon, Leland," she drawls mockingly, her voice lower now too. "You got game?" 

He wants to. He wants....a lot of things. He hesitates.

"I dare you," she whispers, winking. "I double dog dare you."

Lee breathes deep, and before he can second-guess, he does it, just reaches down and splays his hand on the yellow dot, his forearm pressing hard against the warmth of her inner thigh. He swallows and watches Kara's face, watches the pale skin at her neck flush, watches the flutter of her eyelashes as her lids half-close, the quiver of her upper lip as she breathes, nostrils flaring slightly. He shifts, presses harder. The muscle in her thigh clenches. 

Lee is lost--the game, the room, his brother--all of it fades into a hazy background as he tracks the motion carefully as her lips part and even, white teeth sink into her bottom lip. 

His head dips unconsciously and he is mere seconds away from mirroring her actions, covering her mouth, tasting for himself...

And the doorbell rings. 

"Pizza's here," Zak calls, jolting up from the chair as he heads for the door and the spell is broken. "Game over!"

Reality returns with a rush, and Kara blinks and falls, losing her balance and sprawling onto the mat. The motion knocks Lee's hand aside and he falls too, half on top of Kara, one arm trapped beneath her. He expects her to shove him aside immediately, but Lee should know by now that Kara never does what he expects. She wraps her arms around him instead, laughs into his neck, and he closes his eyes, squeezes her back for as long as he dares, until he hears the apartment door close at the top of the stairs. Then Lee gets to his feet and pulls Kara up with him. 

They eat pizza, and Lee tries not to notice the funny looks his brother keeps shooting them. After dinner, when Kara suggests they play truth or dare, he just smiles and tells her to bring it on.

Three months in the company of Kara Thrace and he's getting used to playing dangerous games.

 

**Trick and Treat**

Lee gets to Kara's apartment an hour late, grumbling about whichever idiot decided Halloween could fall on a workday. She just shushes him and hands him a bag, pushing him into her bathroom and shutting the door.

He sighs, wondering what the heck he's gotten himself into. Lee hasn't celebrated Halloween since he was a kid (Zak always seemed to get the best candy, and he'd get stuck with those gross packages of candy corn or stale bubblegum), but Kara had insisted he come to this party with her and Zak. "All you have to do is show up," she'd cajoled, "I'll take care of the costumes. Promise." When he'd hesitated, she'd turned puppy dog eyes on him, and said, "C'mon, Lee, don't you trust me?" Of course, he hadn't been able to say no.

Looking down now into the bag she'd handed him, however he was seriously regretting that. Because all it contained was a scrap of very small flesh-colored fabric.

"KARA! WHAT THE HELL!" He yells through the bathroom door. 

"JUST PUT IT ON, LEE! NO ARGUMENTS! YOU TRUST ME, REMEMBER?"

Lee curses under his breath, staring at the sparse cloth. He's not even sure this thing is going to cover him. 

After a few minutes of awkward wriggling, he manages to get the damn thing on, double and triple checking that all the important bits are covered. Barely. 

He's going to kill her. If he doesn't die of embarrassment first. There is no way in hell he's going out in public in this. 

Lee walks out into the living room, being careful to stay away from the windows, and down the hall to Kara's bedroom. The door is closed and he leans against it. "Kara, please tell me this is all a little joke," he calls out. "You've got the real costume--you know, the one with ACTUAL CLOTHING--hidden in there with you, right?"

"Oh, Lee of little faith," Kara's voice trills back through the door. "Stop bitching! It's a theme costume, okay?"

"What the hell is the theme? Chippendale Dancers?" he shouts. "I feel practically obscene, Kara! I'm probably going to get arrested for public indecency if you drag me out in this!"

Kara's distinctive cackle floats through the door. "You'll get it when you see mine, Lee. Hold on!" He steps back and waits, hands on his hips...which just makes him even more aware of how much flesh he's flaunting. He wishes the damn thing at least had pockets. Or a couple yards more of material.

Finally, Kara flings the door open and steps out, grinning at him. She stares at him, her eyes sliding down then up his body and Lee straightens unconsciously. "I am a total genius," she says slowly, then spreads her arms and turns in front of him. "So do you get it now?"

He's getting something alright and he thinks in a minute this costume isn't going to be covering the important bits anymore. Kara looks amazing. She's wearing this one shouldered tube top type thing and the shortest skirt he thinks he's ever had the pleasure to see, both in an animal print. He spends a few extra seconds looking at her legs rather than the costume, but he tears his gaze away when he realizes Kara's staring at him expectantly, a smirk on her lips. 

Lee shakes his head, shrugging helplessly. 

"You Tarzan, Me Jane?" 

Maybe the costume's working Lee thinks because he's already having some very caveman-like thoughts about what he'd like to do with her. He takes a deep breath and thinks, like he often does in these moments, of how much he loves his brother. 

"Wait, so what's Zak's costume then?" 

Kara's face loses its animation entirely, and she half turns away, fiddling with the bag the costumes came in. "I don't know. I didn't buy him one."

Lee frowns, "Is he picking up his own? Where is he, anyway? Shouldn't he be here? We have to leave for the party in--"

"We broke up, Lee." Kara's quiet declaration derails his train of thought. 

"What?! When-? Kara, what....what happened? God, are you okay?"

She smiles a little at that. "I'm fine. I'm good, really. We had a talk yesterday about how it just hasn't been...working out the last few months." 

Lee's brain is reeling. He only met Kara a few months ago, and he thought they were so happy. Of course he's been traveling a lot for work these last few months too, but he talks to his brother every few days usually. Lee's shocked that he didn't call. 

"I can't believe Zak didn't say anything."

Kara visibly takes a deep breath and says, "I asked him not to." She pauses, biting her lips, and then she steps closer to him. The air changes and Lee tenses, uncertainty and a sense of anticipation stirring in him. "I wanted to tell you myself." 

"Why?" he asks after a beat, throat dry, hoping he already knows the answer. 

Kara steps closer again and she's right in front of him now, mere inches separating their mostly unclothed bodies. "So, I could do this," she answers, her voice low and husky enough to send a current through him, and when she leans in, wide eyes still locked on his, and presses her mouth to his, the currents electrify his entire body. The part of his brain that he's trained to deny his feelings for Kara Thrace for the past few months tries to object, but Lee ignores it, wraps his arms around Kara and opens his mouth to her. She presses closer, winding her own arms around his neck, and Lee can feel her smile against his mouth. 

When they finally come up for air, Lee says, "I don't think we're going to make that party."

Kara grins, her eyes twinkling. "There's no party. That was the trick part of 'Trick or Treat'. I just wanted to see if I could convince you to wear a loincloth."

Lee stares at her for a minute, just shaking his head, then he ducks and lifts, sweeping Kara up over his back, caveman-style and carries her into the bedroom. 

As Halloween treats go, this one's a far sight better than candy corn.

 

**Liquor is Quicker**

With her pulse still pounding as the techno beat of the music faded into something slower, Kara pushed her way through the heaving crowd on the dance floor and headed for the bar. She rolled her eyes as she spotted Lee, just where she'd left him five songs ago, slumped on a stool and still unpeeling the label off his first beer. That sad motherfrakker, she shook her head. He'd been brooding all night about something. Enough was enough.

Kara pushed closer and wriggled into the small space between his stool and the next, her sweaty bicep sliding against his. Lee cringed and moved away. 

"What's a matter, Apollo?" She leaned in deliberately close. "You think I got cooties?"

Bright eyes captured hers, one eyebrow raising as he said, dryly, "I couldn't begin to guess what kind of things you've picked up, Starbuck."

She laughed and winked at him. "Mmmm, well, that civvy with the mohawk over there," she jerked her head at a young guy in a leather jacket and awfully tight jeans bending over the pool table in the corner, "might be next." Kara nudged his knee with her hip. "What about you? Your ass isn't actually glued to the stool, you know."

He shook his head and scratched a thumbnail against the last shred of label on the glass bottle in front of him again and Kara said a silent curse against redheaded raptor jocks who had shit for brains. She frowned and dropped her palm to Lee's thigh. His head swiveled back to her, eyes wide. She leaned in close, swiped her tongue across dry lips, and said, "I know exactly what you need." 

Lee's eyes got even wider, and his mouth opened slightly, but it was a few seconds before he said, "You do?" 

Kara nodded, holding his gaze. For exactly l0 seconds, she thought about sliding her hand higher, leaning in just a breath closer, closing the deal on that little something that always shimmered between them when one of them dropped their guard enough. She took a breath, and all the reasons why that was a bad idea rushed back, and Kara turned and waved over the gorgeous tall brunette bartender. "Give this man a blow job."

"KARA!" he exclaimed, flushing a deep red as he turned to address the bartender. "I'm... I'm really sorry. My friend here just got released from a mental institution and they haven't quite gotten her meds right yet--"

The bartender grinned and Kara sighed. "Relax, Leland. It's a frakking drink." 

"Oh," he looked a bit sheepish, then he frowned. "Wait, do I really want to drink something called..."

She made a fist with the hand on his thigh and bumped him, raising her eyebrows comically. "Well hey, if you don't like it, you could always spit instead of swallow."

He smirked. "More of your hard-earned wisdom, Starbuck?"

Kara tilted her head and grinned. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

His smirk froze, and something flickered there for a moment on his face, and Lee leaned closer, lips parting. Kara stiffened. His eyes held hers for a second and then his gaze slid down to her mouth. Instinctively, Kara sucked her bottom lip beteween her teeth, biting into the soft flesh until she could feel it, blood rushing as Lee tilted closer, closer...

Thump. She jerked back, and Lee did the same as the bartender's tray clunked onto the counter. "Here, you go," the woman said, bright tones ringing out even as Kara tried to swallow her heart back into her chest. "One blow job, soldier." She pushed the drink into Lee's hand and smiled at him. "On the house." The woman winked and deliberately brushed her fingers against Lee's as she moved away, and when he lifted the glass to take a sip, Kara could clearly see the name and number scrawled on the cocktail napkin with a note: "If you want the real thing..." 

She took a breath, forcing down all those feelings she shouldn't be feeling anyway, and pounded Lee on the back. "Look at that, stud. I ordered you a Blow Job, but it looks like you get Sex with the Bartender too." She forced a laugh and hoped it didn't sound as fake as it felt. "Guess it's your lucky night after all." 

He was staring at the numbers. "Guess so." 

Kara shrugged. "Well there you go, Apollo. Don't say I never did anything for ya." It occurred to her suddenly, that she forgot to order something for herself and she grabbed the drink menu. 

"You're right," Kara heard a few seconds later. "I suppose a thank you is in order." Then suddenly his breath was on her neck, voice low in her ear. "What do you say to sex on the pool table?"

Her stomach flipped and Kara nearly got whiplash turning her head to him. But Lee was smirking again, eyes dancing with amusement. Another electronica song flooded the dance floor as he reached over her shoulder, skin brushing hers. He was standing behind Kara, almost on top of her, arms around her as he braced one hand against the bar at her elbow, and leaned over to tap the menu she's holding with his other hand. His finger hovered over one of the fancy cocktails listed but Kara couldn't focus on the small print to read what was in it. Her heart was beating faster than the pounding rhythm of the music suddenly, and the spicy smell of his aftershave was flooding her nose and the warmth of his body was heating her skin and suddenly--more than anything in the worlds--Kara didn't want him to go home with the pretty bartender. 

So she twisted in his arms, and slid a hand behind his neck before she could think to regret it, and pressed her mouth to his. The spark was immediate, and Lee must have felt it too because his fingers clutched her hips, pulling her closer in a second. His lips were sweet, sticky from the cocktail and Kara licked at him, licked into his mouth when his lips parted, and felt it like a current through her body. 

They were pressed up against the bar, his thigh between hers, and she had one hand under his tanks by the time they came up for air. Consciousness rushed back to the surface of her hazy brain and Kara watched Lee's eyes flutter open, feeling nervous and awkward, but mostly wanting to do that again, some more. Both of them were breathing hard, and he tilted his forehead to hers, hands slipping from her hips to wrap around her back. "I thought I was supposed to be thanking you?"

For a second, Kara considered making a joke about screaming orgasms. But showing was much better than telling, so Kara grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door. “Oh, don’t worry, Lee,” she beamed at him, unable to stop smiling now and squeezed his hand. “You will.”

 

**Bonds (unfinished)**

Lee looked at the paper in his hand, squinting at the numbers. He checked the door, turning an ear towards its smooth wooden surface. He heard nothing, but the digits engraved on the small metal plate matched those scrawled on the curled slip he clutched.

He put a hand on the doorknob, then hesitated, letting his eyes sweep once more down the deserted hallway. Was he really going to do this? He didn't even know what exactly happened here. It's not like that guy in the bar had told him anything really.

Dee had been an hour late (or maybe she'd come to her senses and gone back to Billy, he'd thought cynically) and Lee had been working steadily on getting to three sheets in the wind, when the guy next to him at the bar nudged his elbow and said "Aren't you the soldier from the news clip? The towel guy?" He'd groaned and indulged in a brief and bitter rant about ethics in journalism, and the guy had squinted at him and said, "I know what you need." Lee had been afraid it was the prelude to a very awkward come-on, and his fears only seemed to be confirmed when the man scribbled what looked like his room number on a napkin and pushed it toward Lee. His face must have given him away, because the guy laughed and said, "It's not mine, mate. But you go there," he tapped the paper, "and you'll be alright." At Lee's skeptical look, he'd added, "Look you're wound a little tight, right? They'll unwind you." And with that he'd winked and walked away. 

Lee stared at the door again, as if he might be able to see through it. No luck. What could it be? Some kind of opium den? A brothel? The latter didn't sound like such a bad idea at all... He had to do something anyway. Couldn't keep having wet dreams (like a godsdamned teenager!) about a certain smart-mouthed lieutenant in his chain of command. Frakking embarrassing. On a burst of resolve, the doorknob turned under his sweaty palm and Lee pushed the door open and walked in.

The room was nondescript, looking not much different than the waiting room of his dentist back on Caprica, in fact. 

Lee shook his head, not quite sure what he'd expected and stepped up to the reception desk. A woman with a short sleek bob colored a hue not found in nature, tossed aside the papers she was studying and looked up. She raised her eyebrows in expectation but didn't speak and Lee found himself flushing, wondering how to begin. 

"Uh...I don't really know... Do you..." he coughed and finally rushed a sentence out. "Someonetoldmetocomehere." He held out the slip of numbers, as if it were a ticket. The woman looked doubtfully at his hand, then her eyes traveled up, sliding over Lee with an attention that made him flush further. The gaze lingered on his dogtags and there was a hint of recognition as she finished her scrutiny and raised her eyes to his face.

"Hey, I know you..."

Lee bit back a groan, wanting to sink into the floor and cursing D'Anna Beirs for the umpteenth time. "If you're going to make a towel joke, let me save you the time and tell you I've probably already heard it."

The woman smirked and crossed her arms even as her arched gaze flicked to his crotch momentarily. "Oh I just bet you have. So what's your pleasure Captain?"

He blinked at the question. 

The woman rolled her eyes. "Lords, save me from the newbies," she mumbled, then said in louder, clearer tones, "Boys? Girls?" 

"Oh, girls. Girl!" Lee hastily corrected. This whole thing--whatever it was--would be awkward enough with one stranger, never mind two. Or more. He gulped. A graver worry suddenly occurred to him, bringing a slight wave of nausea, and he hurriedly corrected himself again. "I mean, woman! This is all...legal right? Consenting adults and all?" 

The woman sneered a little. "Whadda ya take me for, some kind of creep? Jeesh. Yeah, they're all adults. And trust me honey, everyone who comes here is willing. More than willing."

He nodded, feeling relieved. "Look, you offer up a trade--say that nice watch you got on there--and you get an hour with my girl. Whether you're Dom or sub, you make sure you set up a safe word." Lee's eyebrows rose as the words registered. "And no funny business. No biting, no choking, nothing out of bounds. You get out of control, you get banned and we maybe call the MPs." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "Even if you're some big deal pilot whose daddy runs the fleet. Got it?"

Lee held her gaze, half offended, half impressed, and silently unfastened and handed over his watch. The woman--madame?--actually smiled as she accepted it and threw it into a draw that she locked, then pivoted and headed for a room petition behind her. She had nearly disappeared completely behind it, when she stuck her head back out and asked, "You didn't say. You wanna be Dom or sub?"

He literally had no idea. "Does it matter?"

"Yeah, some of my people only swing one way."

Lee thought for a moment, still unsure, but figured he was too far in to back out now. Making a quick decision, he chose the safer option. "Dom." He gave orders all day, would this really be that different?

The woman's head disappeared and he heard a door open then close. A few seconds later he heard it squeak open again, voices following it. 

"I'm done, Barb. I got duty in a few hours." The words were muted and Lee could barely hear them but there was something familiar to the tone that pulled at him. "Get one of the others to put on fatigues and fake tags and slap some frakking civvy asses for a couple hours."

"Everyone else's booked. It's one guy, someone important from your ship, and he wants a sub anyway."

Goosebumps raised on Lee's skin. From your ship. Someone from Galactica worked here? 

"I don't do sub." The voice got louder as the woman obviously headed towards the petition and his feeling of recognition grew sharper. "No way am I letting some freak order me around to get his rocks off." The voice's owner rounded the corner of the petition and Lee's jaw dropped as he took in the familiar short blonde hair, then the black leather bustier and pants and thigh-high heeled boots that were molded to the rather incredible body of the fleet's top gun. 

Kara was looking backwards, over her shoulder at Barb, as she snorted and continued her argument. "Gods know, I get enough of that in my real job." Her head turned, her eyes caught Lee's and she pulled to an abrupt stop, shock written all over her face.

Barb had followed her around the corner and nearly smacked into Kara. She recovered herself and watched the two of them staring wordlessly. Finally Kara broke the silence. "This the guy?" she asked, her eyes never leaving Lee's. 

He closed his mouth with a snap, head reeling, aware he should probably say something but at a loss. Luckily Barb rose to the occasion.

"Yeah. I guess I forgot, you two know each other already. Er, forget it, I can ask one of the other girls. I think maybe..." she prattled on for a bit, rambling about who might be available. But Kara's attention seemed to be wholly fixated on Lee. Her expression was carefully blank, and he had no idea what she was thinking. So the next words she uttered, soft but steely enough to cut off Barb's stream of babble, were a total surprise.

"I'll do it."

**If a Tree Falls**

Kara aimed her gaze down the length of the slippery log she was precariously balanced on and glared at her opponent. There was no way in hell she was letting some Richie Rich do-gooder from Lewis & Clark U. steal her title. She might not have no fancy college education, but Kara was the best lumberjack in Portland, maybe all of Oregon, and no environmental law student--Karl had gotten the dirt on the guy after he'd shimmied up that greased pole mere seconds short of her time in the second trial--was going to take that away from her. It was time to send this pretty boy back to campus with his tail between his legs. 

A few feet away, her opponent gingerly shifted position, eyes watching his foot placement then skipping up to meet the laser-like gaze she was training on him. To his credit, he didn't flinch, just cocked an eyebrow in response and shot a coolly amused glance back at her. Pretty boy indeed, Kara thought, as those eyes--blue enough to rival the cloudless sky above them--swept down then up her body in a deliberate once over.

She'd bet he used that look more than once. She'd bet it worked too most of the time, what with that face, plus the body. Sweat shined on biceps that were impressive, but not grotesque, and along a strong square jawline that reminded Kara of one of those heroes in those Disney movies Hera loved to watch. Her opponent grinned suddenly, as if he was reading her mind, and the smile transformed his face, instantly sending a little shiver up her spine. 

Crap. What was wrong with her! This was the competition! Kara shook her head and focused as the contest official stepped forward and introduced them to the gathered crowd. Leland J. Adama was her rival's name. Well Leland, she thought, hope you're ready to have your ass handed to you.

The pistol cracked and Kara started moving. The trick to riding a rolling log was to keep your steps light and swift. Her body undulated with the movement, hands out for balance, and her gaze never wavered from her opponent's form. He was watching her too, his face intense--no trace of a smile now--and his moves fluid. Pretty good for a tree-hugging granola freak. 

Karl had told her that Leland here had come with a group of kids from the Uni who were attending as some sort of quasi-protest thing against clear-cutting. He wanted to win to make an example, or some sort of statement anyway, about saving the forests, blah blah blah. Wasn't gonna happen, of course, but Kara kind of enjoyed the chance to play with someone who gave her a run for her money. The locals around here knew she was top dog, weren't any challenge really. This... this was something new, she thought, as those sharp blue eyes pierced her again and a rush crackled through her veins.

Time to dispatch the amateur. She sped up her footwork, waiting, waiting, and then boom—she arrested the log suddenly trying to throw him. He lurched but stuck. Kara smirked and that eyebrow cocked again, and then it was her lurching, as he shifted to send the log spinning in the opposite direction. So that's how it was going to be, eh? She picked up the pace, putting a bit more effort into it, and Kara found herself grinning as her old competitive streak reared its lazy head. Finally, she thought. Here we go.  
They battled for more than twenty minutes, a marathon match for log rolling competitions, when suddenly Kara pulled out a tricky maneuver including three rapid changeovers and a stop-motion that finally managed to throw him. Leland J. Adama landed in the shallow water on his very attractive rear with a curse, but it was followed almost immediately by that same dazzling grin he'd flashed her before. Kara jumped off the log into the water and when her knees buckled just a little, she told herself it was simply the strain of competition. 

"Not bad, Adama. Not bad." She splashed over to him and held out a hand. He squinted up at her for a second, then locked strong fingers around her grip and let her pull him to his feet. "You put up a good fight, Leland."  
"Thanks. Call me Lee." He was only a bit taller than her when he was standing straight again, and the closer proximity to that gaze made her pulse jump. He squeezed the hand he was still holding on to. "You're Kara right?"

She nodded. "But you can call me Star Buck like everyone else, if you want." 

His head tilted for a second, then recognition dawned on that pretty face and he chuckled. "I take it you're the single buck champ, too?"

Kara grinned wide. "And the double buck champ, and the block chop champ..." She leaned in conspiratorily, nostrils flaring at the clean soap-sweat smell of his body, and stage-whispered, "Some people around here even call me God." 

He looked down at her, his gaze darkening as he squeezed her hand again, and Kara thought for sure they'd invented the phrase "bedroom eyes" because of this guy. His focus lowered deliberately to the V of her tank top, then slowly climbed to her mouth, staring just long enough to make her shift, then finally easing back up to her eyes. "A little cocky, don't you think? You haven't won it all yet. There's still the hot saw." 

She could swear that Leland J. Adama drawled a bit on the "hot" and Kara felt her own temperature tick up a bit as he stared her down. She cleared her throat and carefully slid her hand out of his. "Well, you know what they say, Lee." 

He stared at her expectantly. 

"Everyone has a skill." She winked and brushed by him, close, so that her arm and hip skimmed against his, warm flesh sliding against warm flesh, and murmured, "You beat me today, and maybe I'll show you more of mine." 

Coda: On their first date, Kara takes vegan Lee to a steakhouse and very lustily eats her rare porterhouse dinner while he has a side of asparagus and a baked potato. She rails on about how the lumber industry is a natural and necessary institution that's a centerpiece of the local economy, chewing and talking the whole time, and he can't take his eyes off her, even though he finds the consumption of meat to be incredibly disgusting.

**Transfer of Affection**

He stares at the transfer request, his thumb flicking one of the rounded edges of the paper as he studies the heavy pen strokes, the handwriting as familiar as his own. 

"So I know it's not in triplicate, but, uh, I figured with paper being so scarce on the ground these days, you might give me a pass." 

He looks up and Kara's smirking, but the expression's fleeting, already vanishing as her front teeth catch the flesh of her bottom lip. Her chest heaves with a deep inhale and she shifts under his gaze, eyes flicking from the paper back up to Lee. 

_She's nervous._

"A compassionate assignment request?" His eyebrow raises. They're usually used by military members who want a new assignment closer to home because of an extreme situation like illness, death or some other unresolvable family problem.

On second thought, maybe it is fitting.

She shrugs. "Wasn't enough room to fit 'my CO keeps trying to get me killed'." The wry smirk doesn't falter this time. 

"Kara--"

"Lee, I'm--" She shakes her head. "Just sign it, okay?"

He should sign it. There's a pen right next to his hand. 

He can't make himself pick it up.

"I can't."

Kara's eyes widen and her mouth falls open slightly. Her voice is softer when she asks. "Why?"

There are a million reasons, but only one that matters. 

_Because I love you and I can't do this without you._

He could say it. Finally. He should say it, Lee thinks for a second. But there are a million easy excuses between his good intentions and the tip of his tongue. He thinks of Dee, and Kara's face those weeks ago when she told him there was nothing between them. His courage deserts him.

"You're the CAG. Who's going to lead my air group if you leave?"

"Showboat can do it. She's the second-best stick you've got and the other pilots respect her. They won't give her any problems," she pauses, then snorts. "Hell, they'll be thrilled that loud-mouthed bitch is headed back to the Bucket. "

Lee looks down at the paper, and forces himself to pick up the pen, his fingers curving awkwardly around its girth, like it was a foreign object.

He lifts it to the paper....and then lays it back down on the desk.

"No." 

Her jaw shifts stubbornly at his one-syllable answer. "Lee, c'mon. We talked about this. You know why I need to go back." Her eyes are boring into him. 

Lee swallows hard, squares his shoulders. "That was an extreme scenario, captain," he says stiffly. "I'm sure there will be no occasion in the future--"

She scowls, cutting him off. "And how the frak can you be sure of that,  _sir_? 'Cause extreme godsdamn scenarios seem to be our stock in trade these days." 

Lee has not one iota of doubt that he'd sooner cut off his right arm than give Kara an order like that again. But no matter how much he might want to declare that, as her friend, as her... _whatever they are_. As her CO, he simply can't. He reaches for protocol. "We will take every precaution to ensure a similar situation does not result in such an order going forward,"-- _frak, he sounds insufferably officious even to his own ears_ \--"but for now, I simply cannot approve this request."

Silence falls in his quarters and Kara is staring at him like she might be able to shoot holes through him with her eyes. "Gods, you know what? Fine. Then I'm going to the Old Man!" 

Lee's heart jumps in his chest and he racks his brain for a way to convince her, to make her stay. Kara's already pressed the electronic panel, the hatch sliding open, by the time inspiration strikes. His gut churns at the idea of it, but if it means she'll stay with him, for now anyway, it's worth it.

“ _Stay_ ," he calls urgently, and she pauses, one foot in the hallway already, "and I'll approve your rescue mission to Caprica."

Kara turns slowly, shock written all over her face. "You will? Why?"

Lee lowers his gaze to the paper, unable to look at her for the rest. He heard her and Karl in the gym a few weeks back, talking about the pyramid player. Anders. Her reason to live.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, and forces the words out. 

"Because you need it."

_And I need you._

 

**A Chance Meeting (Inspired by the ‘80s film _The Sure Thing_ —never quite made it to a crossover)**

Lee scoured the big cork board in front of the student mess, squinting against the unexpected sunshine. It was an unseasonably warm day considering solstice break was only a week away. Lines of small type and scrawled marker blurred in the glare until his eyes fell on the magic words. 

“Headed to Leonis Beach for Break next week. You pay gas & food, we’ll provide the ride. First come, first served.”

He took a deep breath, thinking for the millionth time that he had to be crazy for even considering this, and closed his eyes. The image that he’d spent the past two weeks studying flashed again behind his lids: golden skin, platinum curls, legs that wouldn’t quit for miles, and a few strategically placed, silky scraps of red fabric. 

He wanted to go.

He needed to go.

Lee opened his eyes, blew out a breath, and reached for one of the pull strips on the flyer….just at the same moment that a hand snaked over his shoulder and tugged the entire paper right off the board. It teared and Lee was left with only the small strip of paper fluttering slightly in his hand.

“Hey!” He twisted, only to find himself nearly nose to nose with a smirking blonde who had, what was undoubtedly the colony’s most extraordinary set of greenish-gold eyes.

And apparently a complete lack of regard for personal space, considering she was practically on top of him. 

“Do you mind?!”

Those eyes widened under arching brows and she shrugged. “Not particularly. Something got your panties in a bunch, flyboy?”

He frowned. “I was just about to take that before you rudely yanked it out of my hand.”

“Oh you were? Cause I thought maybe you were having a little moment there, what with your eyes all closed and the heavy breathing and shit.” She tilted her head and winked at him. “Didn’t want to interrupt.” 

Lee glared at her. His breathing had not been heavy. Maybe he’d sighed once. Twice. Still, this woman—clearly a fellow viper pilot judging by the camo pants, tanks and leather jacket with the viper insignia on the sleeve—may have the world’s most gorgeous eyes (and the wide but perfectly shaped lips weren’t so bad either, he noticed), but Gods she was obnoxious. “Look, you’re going to have to find some other ride. I got here first.”

“Hey, you snooze, you lose,” she leaned forward and slid a hand under his dogtags, lifting them up, “L. Adama.” Recognition flitted over her face. “Adama…you’re Apollo?”

“Yes,” he grumbled, wary, and still hating the grandiose callsign he’d been saddled with. “Who the hell are you,” he mimicked her actions, reaching forward to lift her tags, “K. Thrace?”

He blinked. 

“STARBUCK?”

“The one and only,” she grinned. “We meet at last.”

Thrace comma K was a name he knew intimately . He’d seen it enough times on the flight sim leaderboards, flashing up onto the consoles in place of his own time after time much to his chagrin. The mysterious Starbuck—only a junior—had seemed determined to wipe out every record he set. Sometimes mere hours after he’d set them. He’d wondered about the person behind the callsign. And now, here they were.

“You’re Starbuck?” he repeated dumbly.

“Yeeessss,” she said, elongating the sounds. “Do you need me to talk slower so you can catch up?”

Lee frowned. “You’re not what I expected.” 

The blonde raised an eyebrow, like she knew exactly how sexist he was being. “Yeah, and I thought you’d be taller,” she bit off. “Guess the joke’s on us.”


End file.
